A Friendly Blackmail
by SpyKid18
Summary: When Veronica needs help getting into an 09er party, Logan agrees to take her.  He wants something in exchange, though.  An invitation to the Sadies Hawkins dace.  AU Season 2 LoVe
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yet another LoVe fic. I am seriously in love with this pairing. So fun to write! Hope you enjoy this!**

A Friendly Blackmail: Part I

She catches him at his locker, staring up at him as he closes the door. Looking down at her with his trademark smirk he coos, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Veronica?"

"I need a favor."

"Yes, I will go with you to the Sadie Hawkins dance."

"Logan-"

"No, I will _not_ defile you. Veronica Mars, how positively naughty of you."

"Are you done yet?" she huffs, planting her hands on her hips. "I really don't have time for your ramblings."

"I thought you needed a favor."

"I do." She waits for a minute, gauging whether or not he will interrupt. Miraculously, the boys keeps quiet and she says, "I need you to take me to Dick's party tonight."

"His CEOs and Corporate Hos party?"

She wrinkles her nose at the name, but nods nonetheless. Usually she wouldn't touch one of Dick's parties with a eighty foot stick, but she had ulterior motives for her attendance. "It's invite only," Logan says. "How did you even hear about it?"

"Don't worry about that," Veronica says, dismissing his question. "I need you to take me."

His eyes dance as he repeats, "You _need_ me to take you? You sure there's not a want somewhere in there?"

"Oh, I'm sure," she answers with a tight grin. "It's for a case."

"You and your cases," he chides. "What is it this time? Cheating boyfriend? Missing car? Stolen love letters?"

"None of your business," she chirps.

"Muffin, that isn't how this works. If I am granting you access to the elusive 09ers, I need to know why."

"First off, the 09ers are not elusive," Veronica supplies. "I used to be one of you, remember? And never call me muffin again."

"Whatever you say, cupcake." She scowls and he tells her, "I will happily escort you to the party. I do have one condition, though."

Stoutly she tells him, "I'm not telling you why I need to be there."

"That's not what I want."

Veronica has a feeling this can only end badly. Logan Echolls wanting _anything_ can only end badly and by the way he is looking at her, she has a feeling she will really, really not like whatever it is that he wants. She holds her breath as he says, "I want you to go with me to the Sadie Hawkins dance."

She lets out the breath she had been holding and thinks that this hadn't turned out as badly as she thought it could. She had expected either something ridiculous or ridiculously pervy. Instead, he asks her for something fairly normal. "This isn't how the dance works, you know," she says. "The girl is supposed to ask the guy."

"Then ask me."

"Um, I think I'll pass."

He sighs dramatically and says, "Well, then I guess you will be spending your Friday night with Wallace and Chinese takeout."

"You can't be serious," she says, chasing after him as he turns and begins to walk to class. He looks down at her and retorts, "I am, indeed, serious. And isn't your class the other way?"

"Logan, come on-"

"All you have to do is ask me one simple question and I will be the world's best escort into the illustrious world of the 09ers."

"I'd rather poke myself in the eye with an ice pick then ask you that question."

"Ouch," he remarks, scrunching his shoulders. "You must really not want to go to that dance with me. Too bad, I probably could have been a lot of help tonight."

"Logan-"

"You might want to turn around, only a few seconds before the bell rings."

She stops walking, frowning at his retreating form. Her only real hope of solving the case resides at Dick's party and she knows without Logan she has no real chance of getting in. Quickly, she weighs her options. Make some quick cash and suffer through a night of high school sanctioned hell? Or have more Ramen dinners and gaping hole in the case?

"Logan!" she calls out, decision made. He turns around, smiling easily. "Yes, Veronica?"

"Fine, I'll do it."

"Do what?"

"You know, your stipulation."

He walks toward her and says, "Don't you have something to ask me?"

"Logan," she warns. "Can't we just make this easy?"

"I think the question is fairly simple."

It causes her physical pain, but she asks, "Logan, will you go to the dance with me?"

He lays a hand over his heart and breathes out, "I thought you'd never ask!"

She frowns and says, "I expect you at my house tonight at eight."

As he is about to respond the bell rings and Veronica swears sharply, turning on her heel to race to class. Behind her Logan calls out, "No use running, Veronica! You're already late!"

* * *

"You're in a bad mood," Wallace notes, watching Veronica angrily spear a cucumber with her fork. She shakes it off the fork and stabs it again. "Veronica, what's going on?"

"You know that case I'm working on for my dad?"

Earlier in the week, a Dr. Harold Bryant had approached Keith Mars with absolute befuddlement at how prescriptions that he had no memory of filling were popping up all around Neptune. Keith had done all of the usual sleuthing and encountered dead end after dead end, until Veronica heard grumblings at school of a calculating student with a full blank prescription pad.

"Well, it involved me asking Logan to take me to some private 09er party tonight. One of my main suspects is going to be there and I wouldn't be able to get in on my own."

"Okay."

"Logan would only get me in if I took him to the Sadie Hawkins dance," Veronica says, stabbing the cherry tomato next in irritation. "Which means that not only will I have to suffer through tonight's party with him, but an entire high school dance."

"Man, that sucks."

"Yeah, you think?"

"Hey-you know what you should do?" Wallace looks exceedingly excited over his idea and she takes the bait. "What? Does it include firearms and a shovel?

"Set your dad on him."

"Oh no," she says, shaking her head. "It is not wise to involve my father in anything having to do with Logan Echolls. One is not too big a fan of the other."

"Which is exactly why you should make Logan come in the night of the dance. Make him sit with your dad while you get ready. Make him sweat a little, you know?"

She smiles slowly and says, "I like where you're going with this, Wallace."

"If he is blackmailing you into the dance make him pay."

Veronica leans back in her chair and says, "I always do make them pay, don't I?"

* * *

Veronica rifles through her closet, trying to settle on a shirt. What exactly does one wear to a CEOs and Corporate Ho's party? Her mind is drawing a blank, but she assumes her green t-shirt with _Reading is Sexy_ on it is not the proper attire. She finds a short sleeve button up and pulls it out. Quickly she changes and tucks her shirt into her snug pencil skirt.

_Corporate ho_, she thinks_, hair up or hair down?_

A knock sounds on her door and she says, "Come in!"

Keith Mars opens the door and pops his head in as he smiles at his daughter. He glances at her outfit and murmurs, "Sweetie, you have some deposition I don't know about?"

"I'm going to go have a little chat with Heather Bryant," Veronica says, turning toward the mirror to put her hair up into a low chignon. Keith steps into the room and asks, "Where are you going to do that, Veronica?"

"She'll be at Dick Casablanca's party tonight."

"Are you bringing Wallace with you?"

She shakes her head and tells him, "Nope."

"You're going by yourself?"

Again she says, "Nope."

As he asks her who exactly is accompanying her to said party a car horn sounds from out front and she kisses her father's cheek quickly as she chirps, "There is my accompanying party. I'll be home my eleven thirty. Midnight at the latest!"

"Veronica," Keith sighs, grabbing her arm. "I have to play the Dad card here. Who are you going with?"

"You're not going to like it," she warns.

"Even more reason for me to know."

"Logan Echoll," she sighs. "It was the only way I could get access to the party."

"Hasn't he not been the nicest to you?"

Veronica knows this conversation could go on forever, and with Logan waiting outside and Heather Bryant waiting to get busted for swiping her dad's prescription pad, she is understandably antsy.

"Dad, how about we have this conversation when I get home tonight?"

"At eleven thirty," Keith presses. "Exactly, down to the second."

"Yes, yes, eleven thirty or the horses turn back to mice."

"Be safe," Keith says, watching Veronica warily as she moves out of the house. Last minute he yells, "You have your taser, sweetie?"

Veronica turns back with a grin and says, "Never leave home without it. Bye Dad."

Logan is waiting in his yellow monstrosity of a car and she climbs in, smiling slightly at Logan in his business attire. Logan looks her up and down and says, "I don't think you really grasped the concept of corporate hos."

"How do you know?" she quips. "I could be wearing no underwear."

"Are you?"

She smirks. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"Tease. So, you going to tell me why you need to go to this party?"

She looks over at him and spells out, "Sadie Hawkins dance, Logan. That frees me from having to tell you anything."

"I won't have to save you from some hulking guy, will I? I'm not really dressed for a brawl."

"Now that's not true. You are _always_ dressed for a brawl."

"Always ready," he clarifies. "There's a difference." She laughs but when she looks over at him his face has turned serious. "You're not going to get yourself into trouble tonight, are you?"

"Don't worry," she says easily. "I won't be keeping you from your corporate hos. I'm a big girl, Logan. I can handle myself."

He frowns. "I know. That's what worries me."

"Turn that frown upside down," she sing-songs. "This is a business deal here, Logan. Nothing more, so don't worry about me. Everything will be a-okay."

Logan grumbles something under his breath, and as they drive toward the party Veronica thinks that the men in her life worry too much.

* * *

_Guess I should have worn my hair down_, Veronica thinks the moment her and Logan step into the party. She also thinks, _I should have cut an entire foot off my skirt_. Despite her arriving with the primo-09er she still stands out in her modest attire. "You know, you could unbutton a few buttons of your shirt," Logan suggests, to which she promptly answers, "How about you stop your line of advice right there, buddy?"

"Just saying, you'd fit in more."

Rolling her eyes she tells him, "Okay, my access has been granted, I think I can take it from here. Have fun trolling the freshman."

"If you need me, just call."

"That's cute," she answers, "the fact that you actually think I will need you. I'll be fine, remember? Now, remember to ask for an age before you grope. I don't want a repeat of last year."

Logan scowls as she turns on her heel. Under her breath Veronica murmurs, "Damn, I'm good." She makes her way through the crowd, searching for Heather Bryant. She already has her story ready and several first hand accounts from other Neptune students that make her believe it should go without a hitch.

"Ronnie!" Dick slurs, catching her from the side before she can make a getaway. She smiles tightly as he slings an arm over her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. He smells like tequila and his eyes seem to never actually land on her as he looks in her general direction and asks, "How did you get here?"

"A car," she answers.

Dick nods his head emphatically, apparently rather happy about her mode of transportation. "That's good, Ronnie. That's really good! Are you having a good time? Find yourself a CEO yet? Because there are tons- I meana-tons of guys who would want to get up on that." His eyes travel down her frame and she pushes him away. "Well, thanks Dick," she says cheerfully. "But I need to find someone, actually. Heather, have you seen her?"

"Who?"

"Heather," she repeats, leaning closer so he can hear her. "Heather Bryant."

"Oh, right! Yeah, she's over by the drinks." He notices just then that Veronica isn't holding a drink and says, "Which is where _you_ are heading, 'Ronica! You can't be at a party without a drink. That's like blasphemy."

"Yes," she says seriously. "Undoubtedly, one and the same. Take me to the drinks."

Following her one-way-ticket to Heather, she spots Logan over to the side watching her. She gestures for him to go mingle or something but he only continues to keep watch of her.

_My dad and him should start a club_, Veronica thinks. _They could call it men who falsely believe that I am unable to take care of myself._

Dick is at the keg and filling her a cup when she spots Heather. When Dick hands her the glass she raises it slightly in thanks and then heads over to her target. Heather is talking with a guy in ill-fitting pants which Veronica notes probably works to her advantage. A glance at Heather's face tells her that ill-fitting-pants-boy had swooped in uninvited, and she takes the opportunity to place herself in their conversation.

"Wow," she says, staring up at ill-fitting-pants-boy. "That is just riveting, but mind if I steal Heather for a moment?"

He offers Veronica a smarmy grin and retorts, "Only if you return after."

"Oh, that will not be happening," she says with a cheerful grin. "But I'm gonna be taking Heather, anyway. Nice talking with you."

She pulls Heather away and says quickly, "Okay, I kind of need to ask you a huge favor."

"Veronica Mars," Heather says in greeting. "Usually you are, like, 09er kryptonite but you actually were pretty helpful there."

"I do my best," she answers with a quick grin. "So, um, think we could talk somewhere more private? Bathroom, maybe?"

"Um…"

Heather looks uncomfortable and Veronica kicks up her act a bit. "Look, I'm a little embarrassed about all this. I don't want others to overhear. I know-party, Veronica! Not best place to do this! But I saw you and I am, like, _really_ having some problems and-"

"Let's go to the bathroom," Heather interrupts.

Veronica smiles slowly and says, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You are a life saver."

She follows Heather over to the bathroom and closes the door behind her. Turning back to Heather she says, "So, do you think you could get me some Ritalin? Classes are just killing me this semester and I have been staying up all night. Like, every night."

Heather eyes her wariliy and says, "You look pretty well rested."

"Thanks to Maybelline," Veronica fills in easily. "Because, you know, I'm worth it."

"How much would you need?"

"Not much. Just enough to get me through the next few weeks. The test are piling up, you know?"

"Yeah, sure. Meet me at lunch Monday and I'll have it ready for you."

Veronica grasps Heather's hands and says, "Thank you so much. You are a life saver!"

"No problem."

Veronica smiles and turns on her heel, thinking to herself that she had caught the sneaky teen as she opens the door and steps out. Her gaze falls on Logan immediately, standing a few feet from the bathroom with some tall brunette girl running a finger over his lapel.

_Hope that one got her shots_, Veronica thinks.

Now having done what she set to do, Veronica finds herself a bit unsure as of what to do next. She had never really been a party girl, and her ride is currently pushed up against a wall by some buxom brunette. As she is weighing her slim options, ill-fitting-pants finds her and she silently notes that he had not been one of them.

"I like your outfit," he slurs.

"Why thank you, Queer Eye."

"It's ironic," he continues. "I like that."

"Um, it's actually not ironic," Veronica says, looking around for anyone to save her from her predicament. "It's just my wardrobe."

"Well, then you must have an ironic wardrobe."

Not fully understanding where he is going with this, she pats his arm and says, "Yes, yes I do. Nice talking with you."

She goes to move past him but he grabs a hold of her arm and tugs her toward him. She looks at his hand around her arm and then up at his face as she mumbles, "You really don't want to do that."

When he doesn't let go she twists her arm around and takes a grab of his wrist, twisting it painfully. He howls in pain and drops her arm, stepping back. "What the hell?" he bites out, holding onto his arm.

"Let that teach you not to touch what isn't yours." With a succinct nod she turns on her heel and walks over to an attentive Logan. When she reaches him he stuffs his hands into his pockets and says, "You know, you're supposed to let the guy save you."

Smirking, she retorts, "I've never bought the whole White Knight thing. And, as I said, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"As you've shown. So, did you get what you needed?"

"Are you referring to the case I won't tell you about?" He nods. "Then yes, I have." She notices that he isn't holding a cup and asks him, "So, how do you usually do these parties? Roaring drunkenness probably doesn't bode well for a ride home."

"I usually crash here," Logan explains.

"Well, don't let me stop you tonight," she says crisply. "I think I'm going to call a cab. No real reason to stay here."

"Wait," he says, grabbing onto her arm as she moves away, much like the previous guy. She doesn't pull away, though, and allows herself to be pulled toward him. "How about you stay? There are a few hours until 11:30."

"I'm fine leaving," she says. "This is your scene, Logan. Come on, you don't want to ruin it with me."

"Who says you'd ruin it?"

"The charming creature before you," Veronica answers, jerking one hooked thumb toward herself. "Believe me, I'm no fun after ten."

"And who's the judge of that? Remember, Veronica, I've partied with you before. You are lots of fun after ten."

"Well, we can't drink," she shoots back. "You are not driving me home drunk and my dad will smell it on me."

"Fine, then we don't drink."

She laughs and reminds him, "We are at Dick Casablanca's party. What else is there to do?"

He begins to count options off on his fingers, starting with, "Mingle. Discuss the intricacies of life. Gaze into each other's eyes."

"Yeah, not liking any of those," she deadpans.

"Come on, Veronica," he presses with a grin. "Live a little."

"I happen to live a lot," she answers, oddly bothered by his insinuation that she didn't.

"Well, then I guess you have no qualms with staying here a bit."

Veronica frowns, wanting nothing more than to return home to her bed and sleep. She doesn't particularly enjoy drunkenness and the way Logan has been looking at her all night leaves her with a rather unsettling feeling. She sensed a challenge in his comment, though. And Veronica Mars never backs away from a challenge.

"Fine," she relents. "You better show me a good time, now."

* * *

As they drive home, Logan looks over at her and says, "You know, you're not too bad of company."

"Damn straight," she says, yawning wide. "I'm _awesome_ company."

"Your trademark modesty," he sighs mockingly. "Makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside."

"So, you going to go back once you drop me off?"

"To Dick's?"

She nods. "You have a buffet of drunken girls just waiting to defile you there," Veronica points out. "Easy pickings, Logan."

"Haven't you heard, it's no fun if it's easy?"

"No, I have never heard that."

Logan shrugs and adds, "Anyway, I'm not really into hooking up anymore."

She looks over at him dubiously and says, "Oh, really?"

He glances at her quickly and says, "Yes, really."

"You don't have to pretend with me, Logan," she reminds him. "I don't care if you hook up with girls. Really, I don't."

"Veronica-"

"It's who you are."

"No," he says forcefully. "It's not." She studies his face, watching the way his jaw clenches. "It hasn't been for a while."

Softly she says, "Hannah really did a number on you, didn't she?"

He pulls up in front of her house and retorts, "Who said anything about Hannah?"

Veronica's eyes widen and she goes, "Logan-"

"Look at this," Logan interrupts smoothly. "I have you home at _exactly_ 11:30. I should get an award or something. At least a certificate."

Hers lips press into a slight grin and she says, "I'll print you one out."

Logan seems to want to forget about the near exploration of what they had shared over the summer and she allows him to. Truth be told, she isn't to keen on talking about it, either. She unlocks her seatbelt and stretches her legs out a bit.

"Think you can make it to the door on your own?" he asks with feigned seriousness. Matching his tone she answers, "I think I can manage, Logan. But thank you for asking."

She climbs out of the car and from the open window he calls after her, "Veronica, I stand by what I said earlier."

She turns and asks, "And what was that?"

He grins. "You're lots of fun after ten."

With that he pulls away and she is still chuckling at his words, watching his yellow Xterra disappear around the corner. Once she realizes that her standing alone on the sidewalk probably looks strange, she turns and heads into her home. Keith is waiting up for her, half-asleep on the couch. He starts at the sound of the door closing and asks, "Sweetie, how was tonight?"

Her lips pull into a slow grin. "You know, it was really good."

"You get what you needed?"

Veronica pauses, realizing that up until this moment she had not even thought about the case. It had been beer pong with Logan. Making fun of Dick with Logan.

Logan.

"Bed time," she says, suddenly feeling sick. "Night Dad."

She escapes to her bedroom and sits on her bed. After slipping her feet from her shoes she lays back on the bed and squeezes her eyes shut. After only a few seconds they pop open and she swears silently.

_Come on Veronica_, she thinks_, get it together._

Again, she closes her eyes and is greeted by the same vision. Two brown eyes set in an alarmingly friendly face. She sighs and flips onto her stomach, burying her face into her pillow.

This Sadie Hawkins dance may not be the best idea.

**A/N: And...this was ridiculously long. Hope you enjoyed it, though! The dance will be the next chapter :D PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay-that feedback I got for the first chapter is just amazing. Thank you so much! I replied to all the signed reviews but for all those who did so anonymously or without an account- THANK YOU. I truly enjoyed reading every one of them. Okay, now on to the dance. Hope you enjoy!**

**A Friendly Blackmail: Part II**

Veronica walks down the hallway with Mac, both of them discussing their wardrobe choices for Friday's dance. Mac was hardly materialistic, but Beaver had brought out her inner girl. She never had anyone to look nice for before, but with Beaver there was someone she was dressing for.

"I think I'll wear a burlap sack," Veronica announces, thinking of whom _she_ would dress for.

"Would you at least belt it?"

"Nah, it leaves more to the imagination."

Mac grins. "You mean the basic shape of your body?"

"Look, this is a blackmail-dance," Veronica spells out. "Therefore, I could wear sweats and a hoodie and he couldn't complain."

"Eh, I think he'd still complain."

Veronica crosses her arms over her chest as she thinks that the whole helping-her-dad thing was _really_ not worth what she was going to have to go through. Yes, they had solved the case. Yes, they had gotten a hefty check for it. But the tradeoff was an entire night of school-sanctioned frivolity. Veronica frowns. "This sucks."

* * *

Friday.

The dance.

The entire school is abuzz with excitement over the night's forthcoming activities while Veronica feels nothing but a nagging headache. Logan had been surprisingly subdued during the week. He spoke to her, of course. The party had mostly thawed whatever iciness remained between them, but the usual irritation that accompanied his visits had disappeared. He simply talked to her now. They were actual friends, she realized.

And she doesn't know how she feels about this.

"So, give me a clue," Logan says, sweeping in beside her and knocking his elbow convivially with her own. She looks over at him and says, "It is less than seven, but more than four." He looks at her strangely and she sighs, "Fine, it's five licks to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop." She feigns exasperation and says, "You got it out of me."

"Nancy Drew, everyone knows the real answer is six."

"Better turn in your Hardy boy cap," she tosses back easily. "Because I am always right."

"So, are you marginally looking forward to tonight?" he asks, smoothly shifting gears in the conversation.

"Define marginally."

He laughs lightly and says, "Alright, I will take that as a no."

She reads a bit of disappointment in his voice, and decides that considering the fact that they are now friends-how that happened, she'll never know-she will remedy her response slightly. "You know me," she says gingerly. "I'm not a joiner."

"Yeah, that has been abundantly clear."

"But," she says slowly. "I guess it won't be _too_ bad."

"Because I'm there?" he suggests with a winning grin. She shakes her head as a smile tugs on her lips and says, "Yeah, keep thinking that."

* * *

While Veronica accepts that they are now friends, it does not change the fact that Logan essentially blackmailed her into going to the dance. Friends do not blackmail friends into attending school events. They simply ask.

Veronica chooses to ignore the dissenting voice that reminds her that if he had asked, she would have said no.

With the blackmail dimension winning out, she convinced herself that making him _sweat_, as her and Wallace discussed, was perfectly acceptable.

She hears his car approach and watches from her window as Logan parks near the apartment, his yellow Xterra ostentatiously flashy in its new surroundings. He honks his horn, just as she had asked. And just as she had planned, she stays rooted in her room. She doesn't know if it is right to have a perverse pleasure in the repeated honks, Logan looking confused and then finally irritated as he pulls himself out of the car and walks to the front door.

In the end, she really doesn't care.

She hears the knock on the door and then a moment later Keith calls out, "Sweetie, you have a gentleman caller."

She peaks her head out of the doorway and flashes him a smile. "I'll be right out. A few last minute wardrobe emergencies. You know how girls are." Another bright grin and perky scrunch of her nose. "You two talk, okay?"

The look of pure terror on Logan's face as she shuts her door will serve as fodder for her unlikely-yet not impossible-enjoyment of the night. Of course, she is already dressed and she sits on her bed as she listens to the bits of conversation that she can catch between the two.

"I want her home by twelve," Keith says. "And you will be staying at the dance the entire time."

"Of course, Mr. Mars," Logan says, voice all proper and parent-appropriate. Which is precisely why his words ring false and she snorts at his misstep.

"If you do anything beside go to that dance," Keith begins. "And I mean _anything_. I will find out."

She takes Logan's silence as her cue that the inquisition has gone on long enough, and she gathers her purse and sweeps grandly out of her bedroom. His eyes move to hers immediately, but she loses his gaze as his eyes rove over her dress.

She had decided to nix the burlap sack idea, instead choosing a form fitting red dress that accents all the right curves and minimizes the others. She smiles slightly when his eyes find hers again, slightly widened, and she says, "You ready?"

He stands up and gestures for her to walk out first. She goes over to her dad t and kisses him on the cheek as she whispers, "You done good, Dad."

He chuckles and returns, "I'm good at the scare tactic." In a voice meant for Logan, too, he says, "You two have fun. Dance until you drop. Do the macarana. Boogie-"

"And that is enough talking for you," Veronica says, effectively cutting her father off. Her and Ketih exchange one final small grin before she walks out, Logan following her. He opens the door for her and she climbs in, pulling her purse up just in time as Logan closes the door. When he gets in beside her he says, "You put your dad on me, didn't you?"

Innocently she retorts, "Now, why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the Mars Inquisition."

She looks over at him and coos, "I like your suit. Very George Clooney."

"You're trying to distract me," he points out, lips curling into a grin.

"Maybe."

"And I look better than George Clooney."

She grins and they continue the ride with a comfortable silence.

* * *

Both stop in the doorway of the gym, their eyes roving over the meticulously executed decorations. The whole room is a bit much, no doubt thanks to the ebullient and bitch-on-wheels Madison Sinclair.

"Whoah," Logan breathes out.

"I second that _whoah_," Veronica says, her eyes nearly hurting from all the pep being forced on her. "It looks like Party City puked in here."

Logan sniggers. "You have such a _way_ with words, Veronica."

A few couples shuffle in behind them and Veronica glances back and offers them an apologetic grin as she tells Logan, "Aright Indiana, time to face the unknown."

"Veronica!" She looks over to her side and grins when she sees Mac approaching, all swathed in taffeta and happiness. She gives Mac a quick hug and says, "A familiar face, hello." She looks over to Mac's date and says, "Hiya Beaver."

He gives her a stiff wave and she smiles in response, returning her attention to Mac. "So, how's the dance so far? Will I be able to survive the remainder of the night?"

Mac goes to respond but is cut off by Logan as he says, "You're with me, Ronnie. You'll be doing better than survive."

Veronica glances up at him and says, "While I can appreciate your excessive self confidence, don't flatter yourself on this one. This is socially mandated hell, Logan. Not even your _charming_ presence can help."

"Judging without even giving me a chance," he scoffs. "Come, I have some convincing to do."

"What-" Logan grabs her arm, pulling her out to the dance floor. Veronica glances back at Mac, noticing the way her friend is gazing at them with a soft grin. When their eyes met, Mac nods her head once and flits her hand as she mouths, "Have fun."

"Fat chance," Veronica mutters.

"What is that?"

She goes to speak but the upbeat song that had been playing transitions into a slower beat, and she frowns when she sees that her and Logan are not at the dance for five minutes, and they already are caught by the ubiquitous slow dance. She has to give Logan some credit here, because he hesitates. He looks down at her, his eyes asking whether or not she wanted to proceed.

Surprisingly, her hands slide behind his neck without hesitation and her body presses close to his, head dangerously close to his chest. She can hear his breathing above her hitch ever so slightly when her fingertips graze the back of his neck.

_What are you doing, Veronica_, she thinks. What the hell was she doing? She is pressed against him, feeling every emotion from that summer course back, and when she glances up at him, the look in his eyes tell her he is doing the same thing. She doesn't know what to do; doesn't know what to say. Everything feels wrong, yet at the same time undoubtedly right. It's like she was made for his arms, fitting perfectly against his body and short enough for him to comfortably rest his chin on the top of her head.

He doesn't do that.

He used to, though. She remembers it vividly, because it had always made her feel protected, safe. Tucked away in his arms, she had felt those broken pieces inside of her-the ones she hid so well-were slowly coming to a mend. He had been the perfect band aid, the perfect cast, because he was one of the few people who understood her fully. He knew the sting of a lost parent and the betrayal and ultimate self-blame that followed. He knew the grief of death, the oppressive nature of public scrutiny.

Most of all, he knew her. He could read her moods easier than she could identify them. He could put into words fleeting expressions that passed on her face, while all she could say was that she was conflicted.

Conflicted.

The word describes her current state of mind well. She feels content for the first time in a while gathered in his arms, and his chin is hovering just above the top of her head. It would take minimal effort to tilt her head, read everything she is feeling in his eyes, and ultimately come home.

She can't, though. Or can she? There is a list of reasons why Logan Echolls should be kept at an arm's distance, but as she ultimately tilts her head and meets his eyes again, she has an awful hard time remembering any of it. There's something about him being a hazard. Another about his temper. But he smiles softly down at her and she begins to compile another list, the first item being: he's the only person who gives me butterflies.

His hands rub her back and she allows herself to lean into him further, resting her cheek on the lapel of his suitjacket. She closes her eyes tight when his lips brush the top of her head.

The song changes but they stay pressed close, swaying slowly to a beat existing only in their minds.

"What are we doing?" she says, echoing the sentiment that seems to characterize their entire relationship.

"I don't know," he answers.

"We need to stop getting ourselves into these situations," she says, looking up at him. He nods and says, "Okay, we can stop tomorrow."

He drops his lips to hers before she can respond.

* * *

Mac dances with Beaver and watches Veronica and Logan over her boyfriend's shoulder. The dysfunctional pair is wrapped up in each other's gaze, swaying significantly slower than the song dictates. They hardly notice, though. She watches Veronica tilt her head up toward Logan, and they exchange a few words. She can't see Veronica's face but gathers from Logan's expression that he isn't being a jackass. Mac gasps lightly when Logan covers Veronica's mouth with his own. She waits for a moment before she draws any conclusion, watching for Veronica's reaction. When her friend presses her hands lightly on his neck, bringing his face down on hers more firmly, Mac breathes out, "Finally."

**A/N: Alright, question time. Would you like to see a continuation of this or should I leave it where it is? Let me know!**


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